


Inwardness

by ladylana



Category: The Technomancer (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Story, Andrew POV, Andrew portayed as Master, Angst, Dream Sequences, Dreams, M/M, Story within a Story
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-05
Updated: 2018-05-15
Packaged: 2019-05-02 16:25:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,761
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14548716
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ladylana/pseuds/ladylana
Summary: Andrew has unsettling dreams. And his life seems to be a little too fragmentary to be believable. Or maybe he's just going crazy?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So... I'm exploring a little more that idea about Andrew being a Master, this time approaching the subject a little differently. It's not exactly "what if" story, but it could be received as one. This is more a "story within a story" thing ("storyception"!) :) As you will probably guess, something terrible happened to Andrew, and then... this "dream" happened. I'm not tagging "happy ending" for now, because this story is still a work in progress, but I'll probably give it a happy ending.  
> Seriously, I can't write sad endings  
> I'll try to keep it simple and short, maybe 4 chapters long. 
> 
> Thank you all for reading! :)

_He could only remember a shadow. Big like a damn mountain. It held him and threw across the room like a rag doll. There was no pain. World around him just... exploded with light. Ground under his body felt strangely soft. Should it be like that...?_

_Screams. Overpowered by one especially loud bellow._

_Get up. Get up! Getupgetupgetup!_

_When pain finally comes, he knows that he can't do it._

Andrew slowly opened his eyes. Grave silence welcomed him - as usual in the mornings, when everyone at the barracks were slowly waking up. It was his favourite time, that few silent, lazy moments, which he had all to himself. But today, it just felt so strange for him. Was that silence always so heavy? It felt really ominous. Maybe it was the influence of that dream... what did he dream about again? He couldn't remember anymore. Was it important? 

Since when dreams were important? He shrugged off the feeling. 

As fast as he could, he reached for his usual clothes, hanging from the backrest of a chair. He could hear some of the novices' voices just behind the door to his bedroom. Echo of the first bell was still present at the hallway it seemed. 

Andrew collected his gear and took special care of his hair. If someone was kind enough to ask, Andrew would say that it's the only thing about him he really liked, so that's why he was so careful about arranging them in a beautiful chaos form. 

He smiled to himself. _One stylish Andrew Mancer ready to go._

Hallway was almost empty, aside from one white-haired Mancer and his student, who was always there with him. They were an inseparable duo. Andrew never saw that young novice being alone after he was assigned to Master Sean. Well, okay, relatively young, because he and Andrew were almost the same age, difference was give or take a year. Maybe. But still young compared to the others. Especially to his Master. 

Andrew looked at his own clothes. They belonged to a Master. But because he was so young, Great Master Ian didn't give him responsibility of looking after any young novice. Deep down, he regretted it, because it was a privilege to have one and teach him all about being a technomancer. For now, Andrew was asked to take care of small group of children, who could barely hold a staff. But he could understand the point. He was young, so other technomancers treated him more like a friend, not a mentor. 

Not like it really mattered. Andrew was more than happy to help. It just... he wanted to experience having that kind of connection like Sean had. Or, if he was more honest to himself, he was actually envious of him having Zach's unconditional attention. And respect. Even though they both originated from slums, they were never close to each other. Not really. But they did train together from time to time, when Masters tried to measure their potential. Unfortunately, they isolated Andrew very quickly, and Zach isolated himself without anyone's help.

“Good morning, Sean. And to you, Zachariah.” 

Zach's eyes were finally focusing on him, and Andrew felt something... unsettling. Those eyes... Zach really had a strong gaze. Especially paired up with his calm behaviour and careful smiles. Andrew could send his smiles right and left, while his coeval was just so thoughtful of everything that he was doing. That included smiling. 

“Good morning, Master Andrew.” 

“I'm glad you're up. We'll hold a ceremony today, so we'll have to prepare the great hall. I believe Great Master Ian is already there.” 

Ceremony. Right. Someone will be named Master after today. But, strangely, Andrew memory was a little hazy, so he didn't know who was it. Should he know...? It couldn't be Alan, right? That little prick should be kept away from any form of authority. 

“All right, I'm going. Are there any news from the front?”

“Grim as always. They will send more of us soon to the front lines.” 

Andrew shrugged. Because he was young, he was considered inexperienced. And nobody wanted an inexperienced technomancer on the field, so he was forced to stay in the order. Not like he was all crazy about joining the war. He valued his life, thank you very much. His brothers and sisters dying _was_ important, he just wasn't sure he wanted to join them. 

Death. What a scary thought. 

He opened his mouth to ask Zach about his work, but he got distracted by his students. When they saw him, they waved their hands enthusiastically and shouted “good morning, Master!” so loud, that they probably woken up last stragglers who were still asleep. 

“I have to go” he said, prepared to face smaller and bigger problems of his students. “Good luck on your mission, Zach.” 

After he said that, he remembered that it was Zach who was going to be promoted. He was going on his last mission with Sean, to the old dome which held their collective secret - about them being mutants. 

_”Good luck taking it all in, Zachariah”_ Andrew thought, trying not to turn around. Trying really hard, because he felt like it should be important. Should he encourage his comrade? He should, right?

But then, he remembered that Zachariah was better than him at keeping his face. And, with Master Sean guidance, what could go wrong? Absolutely nothing. Andrew strongly believed in that. 

_”Who, if not you, will bear the truth?”_


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Andrew can't remember why, but he's running. His condition is getting worse, but there's a familiar face in a crowd surrounding him.

There's a storm raging in his body. Andrew can almost hear rumbling of a thousand thunders, crawling just under his skin, creeping up at his consciousness, taking away his sense of reality. That tremendous power is almost tearing him apart, it makes his body go hot and cold in a matter of seconds, it's also a cause for big droplets of sweat appearing at his temples. 

There was something about his temples that was really important. But he was too young now to remember what was that. There's only a fade feeling of metal touch. 

_Wire him._

He's running. His body burns and shivers, both from hotness and coldness. But he's moving, his bare feet are stepping on filthy streets in the slums of Ophir. There's almost no light, only small, dim orange marbles in the distance, that marks an existence of some buildings offering services. 

Someone is holding his hand. Grip is strong and painful, but Andrew's holding to that hand with everything he has, even though he's not sure to who he's clinging. But it's a small hand, even though it's full of blisters, a sign that it's already tainted from work. 

Andrew knew that feeling. Solid, scratchy hands. Just like his father's. 

“Move, move! Faster, people, faster, I don't have all day!” 

Andrew eyesight flickers both from the fever and from storm rising in his body. But maybe those things were connected somehow, he didn't know. He was aware of the fact that someone was taking him somewhere, and that he should know all about this, because it was so familiar to him, but he just wasn't able to. 

It was important, he knew it. But something was wrong with him and his body. 

“Anyone's sick? Let me –“ 

“Move away, crazy man. Nothing to see here.” 

In a moment, Andrew saw where he was. Still in the city, that was for sure. The roof above his head and familiar dirty streets were a much comforting sight. But when he saw number of silhouettes surrounding him, all in black, he gasped. Heavy, oily air attacked his lungs, and then a scent of fear mixed with usual human savour. 

They were moving them out of the city. Guards, equipped with heavy gear, shields, maces and all kinds of armour pieces, surrounded them. Along with one very tall guy, wired up to his teeth, with standard technomancers equipment. This sight was so scary, that Andrew instinctively tightened the grip on the small hand, that seemed to be his only anchor for regaining his sanity. 

He couldn't see any familiar faces around him, but he managed to catch a glimpse of the person's face who was allowing Andrew to hold on so tightly to him. It was a boy, more or less his age, very skinny and dirty. His clothes were largely ripped, and there were traces of blood and wounds on his uncovered skin. He was pale and pasty, but he wore very mature and rebellious look on his face. 

He was looking at Andrew with a mix of worry and curiosity.

“You okay? You're not going to fall on your face now, right?”

Zachariah, that was his name. He was talking with him, now he could remember. Something in him opened with a loud thwack. 

But there was still something wrong about all of this. Wasn't there something important for him to do? He was sure... Well, no matter, it looked like he got himself in trouble for some reason. Why and how, he just couldn't tell. Maybe because of the raising fever. It was getting worse. Even breathing was getting hard for Andrew. But he had to lie, to assure that boy he's not going to die on a spot. He didn't want to let go of him. 

“No, I'm okay. How far are we?” 

Words came to him naturally. His consciousness was returning.

“They are planning to throw us in the underworks. They say there's a caravan waiting for us.” 

Andrew was well-versed in that matter and he could tell that this information was one big, fat lie. If they wanted to arrange any official transport, whey would use official channels, along with official rovers. Caravan in the underworks? That was just ridiculous. 

“We can't let them take us there.”

“Yeah, that's what I was thinking. We have to get back. But...” 

Zachariah looked at the guards, and the look in his eyes was the answer. They couldn't make it through that living wall of armour and weapons, especially not with damn technomancer watching them. He would fry them in a blink of an eye. 

_He can be just as powerful. Again._

The storm in his body gains in intensity. Andrew tries not to scream, but it's tearing him apart. Something is wrong, very wrong, the flow of power... 

_If he can control it._

And then, it explodes. The light. The heat. The sound. The smell. 

He's an embodiment of storm. Uncontrolled and wild, he just bursts out. 

He lets go of the familiar hand. 

Once again, he's left alone. Only the pain remains.


End file.
